Horatio and Krystal
by Neteret
Summary: Her love of blood and gore does more to Horatio than just fascinate him.


The "Horatio and…" stories are still part of Horatio's Harem, but they are now being listed separately.

CSI: Miami

Horatio/oc

Disclaimer: I own nothing of CSI: Miami, I do not know anyone connected with the show or with CBS and they do not know me, all of which is a shame.

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"So, I've got this guy open down to the pubic bone, right? And I'm about halfway with squeezing through this bloody large intestine, thinking the thing's got to be in there some place, right? I've got two body movers holding his legs up while huge amounts of waste are being spewed out on the table and we're all gagging!"

Having lunch with Krystal Rose, the ME who was temporarily filling in for the vacationing Alexx Woods, was always an interesting experience. Ryan had already excused himself, saying he needed to check on some test results and Cooper was looking decidedly green around the gills.

Dr Rose took another slurp of her borscht, which, Horatio noticed, didn't help her other listener. "Well, it ended up that he'd not only swallowed a ring worth over eight hundred k but an antique lady's wristwatch worth about two k. Somehow, I don't think either was any better for the wash they got in stomach acids. Oh yeah, COD was bowel obstruction." She leaned over her bowl and began to eat in earnest.

Horatio had recognized that when the team had tried to initiate the new girl by relating their worst cases, over lunch, they were making a mistake. After several months of acquaintance, he was familiar with her love of gore. It was no surprise that she'd considered the hazing as permission to relate any tidbit of blood and slime in the break room. The fact that her meal of choice was often blood-red beet soup, didn't help.

Cooper scooped up the container still heavy with a third of his lunch. "Alrighty, then. I have some audio to separate and analyze." The young audio-visual expert looked helplessly at his boss as he carried his waste to the trashcan and left.

Horatio, leaning against the counter in front of the coffee pot, had returned his look with a noncommittal smirk, his arms folded across this chest.

Deep sapphire eyes flashed prettily in contrast to the soup. "I think I'm going to have to bring in some homemade muffins or cookies or something. Do you think they'd eat them? I mean, after telling them how I get up to my elbows in maggot filled gunk?"

"They'll all talk of diets. Maybe knit personalized scarves for them." He straightened up and, turning sideways, regarded her affectionately. "I wouldn't eat muffins, either."

"Diet or backing up the team?"

The crinkling around her eyes told Horatio that she knew the answer but he replied anyway. "Um, yes."

"Puts me in my place, doesn't it?" She gracelessly lifted her soup container and drank from it. Using a paper towel to mop the clownish red smile from her face, she snapped the lid onto the empty bowl and stood. "I have those two posts before I can leave today, so off I go. Come down, later; I should have some results. Also, I'll be able to disembowel you at leisure."

"I support my team," he walked past her and lowered his voice to a personal whisper, "but, I have never made love to any of them. I shall see you downstairs, then." He walked hurriedly on to quell the pleasantly rising feelings in his nether regions.

Two hours later, Horatio was noting that the major difference between Alexx's postmortem methods and Krystal's was that the temp's were decidedly not neat. Ordinarily, he could confidently approach a body in the middle of Alexx's post without even a lab coat, but now, he wished he'd at least worn paper booties as he stood well outside of the two-foot wide, blood spattered perimeter around the table.

To his query on results, she replied, "As I suspected when I saw this guy at the scene; two different shooters from two different angles, small caliber guns. Only one was a through and through, but I saw two other misses at the scene. You guys dig the rounds out of that palm tree? Figuring the two angles from which he was shot, I'd say you found the through and through about eight or ten feet to the left of the tree, maybe ten feet from where this kid fell." She put the three bullets she'd dug from the body in separate plastic bags.

Looking at the bullets he took from her, Horatio smiled. "And I imagine you already figured out where the two shooters were standing from the paths of the trajectories?"

Krystal knew she was being tested. "Well, that, and I cheated; I saw the footprints in the dirt. Considering they probably did a straight-armed shot, I can guess the height at about five-six for the one on the right, and the one who put the bullet through his right ventricle was closer to five-ten. From the footprints, I can guess at their weight, too."

"You do know that if you do cross over to being a CSI, there's no guarantee you'll be assigned to Miami-Dade. At least, not at first."

"You can't get rid of me that easily, tiger-man. I'll just remain a temp ME, filling in here and there as needed, until I can get an assignment to this lab."

Using his pet name for her, "Thorny, getting rid of you would be the biggest mistake of my life. I'd personally stop any transfer you attempted."

"Now that we have that settled, how about I finish giving you results of this post and what I got from the other one?"

"For which I shall reward you handsomely, tomorrow night."

"Not tonight?"

Horatio's mouth twitched. "I just sent Calleigh and Ryan on a callout. I have a feeling you and I are both going to be working late tonight."

"Hm, Saturday night in Miami; don't you just love it?" He knew his face mirrored the pain he felt at the prospect of the inevitable deaths and she was immediately contrite. "Sorry. Bad joke."

Still caught by those astounding eyes in the perfect heart shaped face with very kissable lips that were only a tad too wide, Horatio realized why he liked being in a relationship with a workmate; he didn't have to explain any lack of enthusiasm, the reasons for dark moods. He also knew that, when he could let go at the end of the day, he'd be doing it with one of the kindest women he'd ever known. She wasn't interested in what he did, so much as in easing how he felt about it. Wasn't interested so much in the current source of his feelings as in the root cause. Better yet, she accepted, even if she didn't entirely understand.

Pulling himself out of the pleasure of his thoughts, he got back to business. "So, what else have you got for me?"

She turned to the wall of drawers. "Got your lunch digested?"

As she pulled out the gruesome body, which had already leaked fluids onto the sheet, Horatio smiled and recognized his madness over her for what it was. Where before, he'd worn hopeful longing for Yelina, like a worn-out jacket, and then had donned the hate for Marisol's killers like a too-tight turtleneck sweater, he was now sporting the luxurious, warm, chinchilla-soft coat of new love. Damn! It felt good! At the same time, it was frustrating and distracting. He had to stop himself from doodling hearts all over case files he was supposed to be approving for closure, had to ignore the looks from the team as he smiled inanely while listening ugly details of the latest homicide.

Even now, all he could think about was when he could next rub his naked body on hers, insert his throbbing penis deep into her richly warm private recess, be surrounded by her, become part of her again.

No, it was more than that, more than the lust for her; it was the need, the opportunity to escape this world. Only when he could exhaust his need into her, explode the fury, the frustration, the endlessness of the duty he'd sworn publicly and privately to uphold, only then could he feel relaxed and whole. Only then, he could listen to her intelligent banter, enjoy her wit.

At the end of most days, at whatever hour the duties would let him go, he'd drive to her place like a maniac, barely obeying the speed or safety laws, his mind holding a single thought. Finding her, not even greeting her, he'd grab her, maul her, kiss her, and push her to the nearest solid surface. Often as not, she was in bed, which was convenient, but they'd frequently had sex on the kitchen counter, the dining room table, and even against the wall in the entrance hallway.

He'd hardly ever noticed that her response was as undeniable and fanatical as was his need. Never once had she asked him to slow down, to take it easy, or even to let her sleep. Instead, she'd always seemed to be expecting him, needing him in the same fashion

Even now, only half listening to her findings on the two-week-old bloater, he was wishing it wasn't Saturday, wishing there was time, a place in the building he could…

"At least we were able to confirm his identity from the ID found on him and the dental records. I mean, whacking off his fingers and reconstituting them is fun and all, but I hate having to explain the mutilation to the family. Shoot! What am I talking about? I hate ever having to explain any of the stupid reasons for death to the family!"

He watched while she raised an arm to wipe at her eyes; his lover always cried for the relatives of the deceased, for the burden of death they had to bear.

"Would it help if I told them?" He basked in the glow of her extensive smile.

"You know, when you talk like that, I get all hot. If it weren't against regulations, I'd pull you into one of these empty drawers and have my way with you."

Oh, yes! Working with Krystal was, indeed, quite an experience.

The End


End file.
